


upon hallowed ground

by youngjo



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Animal Death, Breathplay, Horror, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vines, but i'm gonna post it anyway, cult vibes, only bc of a brief mention!, this is rly out of my element
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29916195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngjo/pseuds/youngjo
Summary: Yeosang's dedication to the creature lurking within the dead forest has earned him favor; he need only prove his resolve.
Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	upon hallowed ground

**Author's Note:**

> I uhhhh have no idea what this is? I just rly wanted to try writing something with some lowkey horror vibes so like, here we go
> 
> hope you ?? enjoy ?? alslajsk

“Be careful in the woods, child; there is nothing but death within these trees.”

Yeosang’s steps faltered, the young man glancing in the direction of the warning. They landed upon a rather frail old woman, her body appearing larger only through help of the thick shawl clinging to her shoulders. He had seen her there a few times before but she had never spoken to him before that evening. Wanting to appear friendly, he dropped his shoulders, pack resting heavily against his back. 

“Thank you for the warning, ma’am,” he said politely, dipping his head. “I have traveled within these woods many times; I know them well.”

She inhaled, sound mirroring that of wind through the branches of a great oak tree. “There is something different in the air, dear child. It may be wise to resort to a well traveled path.” 

“Your warning is appreciated,” he replied again, straightening out his own travel cloak. “Have a good evening, ma’am.” The woman muttered something else, Yeosang catching something about _ kids these days, _ but he did not pause to listen further. He was already running late, the sun sinking further upon the horizon. Though he had ventured into the forest many times in the past, it was still not wise to attempt to navigate its uneven terrain while darkness permeated the roots. 

The clearing behind melted away as Yeosang maneuvered further into the woods. It was unnaturally quiet and still, the only sound coming in the form of his steps amid wet leaves. Each tree lay bare and hollow, just fragments and shells left over from the prime of their lives. Even the air sat still and cool, devoid of any scent aside from moldering leaves. The forest was not dead despite those factors, however. As he wandered deeper within, signs of life began to make themselves known. They were small, clinging mostly to mossy roots and forgotten logs. Mushrooms of all varieties, flourishing in the carcasses of giants long passed their prime. 

The sound of his approaching footsteps roused the mushrooms dangling from brittle branches. They flickered to life, glowing faintly amid the dusky woods. Green, blue, and gold, they guided Yeosang to his true destination amid the forest left long forgotten.

Until finally, as the sun finally finished its descent into darkness, he arrived.

Deep within the woods, guarded by tightly grown trees, was a single clearing.

Filled with dead yellow grasses, it had an unsettling aura that would warn even the most hardy of souls away. A single tree sat at the center, branches drooping and black bark peeling. Its base was covered in glowing mushrooms. A single leaf was clinging to life upon one of the spindly branches, stem brittle enough where even the gentlest of breezes would send it scattering.

Yeosang did not focus upon any of those details though. No, his focus was upon a figure seated at the tree’s base, nestled in roots grown specifically to protect them. Their back was to him, face buried in the bark of the tree, wiry frame awash with light from the mushrooms above. He readjusted the straps of his pack and stepped foot into the clearing. The grass hissed upon his intrusion, Yeosang feeling power surge beneath his shoes. It settled just as swiftly, the hollow realizing who he was. He hesitated there as he was granted passage into such a sacred area. Yeosang approached slowly, respectfully, as his steps lay muffled by the grass beneath his feet.

“You’re out tonight,” Yeosang murmured, carefully dropping his pack into the grass.

“A gift presented itself at the edge of the wood,” the figure replied, turning to face him. His hair was thin, hanging around his ears, a stark contrast against the paleness of his skin. Moon-bleached antlers protruded from his head, dregs of moss hanging from the three prongs on either side. His eyes met Yeosang’s own, the pale yellow glowing in the light from above. The figure rose to full height, arms and legs covered in vines that had grown from his very bones. Dead blossoms adorned them but they were proof of the life returning. Roots had sprouted from the ground below, however, wrapping around the creature’s ankles and keeping him anchored beneath the protective tower of the tree he was beneath. 

“I thought you promised not to indulge without my blessing, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa, now addressed, lifted his hands with slow calculation. His yellow eyes rerouted to his palms, fingers flexing. “I wished to be able to touch you this time.” 

Yeosang crossed the space between them, the mushrooms flickering at his approach. It had taken a long time for the once-beautiful tree to allow him so near. Even so, were he to make even the slightest attempt against Seonghwa’s life, he would be dispatched immediately, his bones fed to the earth below and blood drunk by the very bark of the tree Seonghwa stood against. Yeosang did not take his blessing for granted.

“What if they learn of your existence and send one with poison in their veins?” He murmured, bending down to dig through his pack.

Seonghwa hummed thoughtfully. “You are not of poison.”

“Never,” Yeosang replied. “I am devoted to you, Seonghwa.” 

“I hope to one day leave these grounds.” A vine poked from the ground, gently stroking Yeosang’s arm. “My strength only grows.” 

“One day, I hope,” he answered, pulling three cloth bundles from his pack. The fabric was bloody and torn, the middle one bigger than the first, and the vine upon his arm retreated so it could slide upon their surfaces fondly. “I’m afraid I could only find two sparrows and a squirrel today.” He carefully unwrapped the cloth and placed each corpse within the grass.

“Welcome gifts,” Seonghwa replied softly. “Though I do wish for something more flavorful.” Vines sprouted from beneath the ground, coiling over the top of each creature and tugging them into the depths of the earth. Their bodies would nurture Seonghwa for several days to come, nurturing the roots of his tree and allowing him to cling to a spark of life until Yeosang graced him with yet another visit.

He still did not know exactly what Seonghwa was. Demon or angel, he could’ve been told either and he would’ve believed it. The old tree at his back was thousands of years old, its roots extending to every corner of the forest they were in. Once alive and full of life, some event had triggered massive decay and forced Seonghwa’s spirit to take root in a single tree to preserve his mind. The seed of his heart could be found deep within the ground, pulsating and full of power. He required sacrifices, alive or dead, to keep him going, pulling their blood into his seed and using their flesh to repair his bark. A highly volatile and dangerous creature who’s only exception came in the form of a young traveler named Kang Yeosang.

Once a victim himself, Yeosang had accepted his fate as he was pulled into damp earth. Sod filled his lungs, mud clinging to his skin as all life was squeezed out of him. His torment had stopped at the first drop of blood, however, and he had been propelled to the surface. Yeosang survived only because Seonghwa had willed it to be, granting breath back to his lungs and returning strength to his feet. In doing so, he went from an adventurer from some foreign land to the sole nurturer of Seonghwa, a spirit intent on consuming enough life energy to one day restore his forest to its former glory. He had no idea what Seonghwa’s roots had tasted within him but it had been enough to spare his soul—at least for a moment.

Yeosang had no idea when his usefulness would come to a true end and his body would be dragged deep into the soil, becoming nothing but a vessel of power for Seonghwa.

Somewhere along the way, Yeosang had found himself excited with the task. His kills had gone from small animals to nurture Seonghwa’s roots to bigger prey. A deer or two, a bear once, even a wild cat from down stream; he had dispatched all of them. Yeosang had even successfully hunted another human in the past, back when Seonghwa could not send roots to the far reaches of his domain and stop the invader from burning his precious wood. He had made swift work of the man, Seonghwa even more so as his body became yet another addition to the mound of bones kept out of sight below. 

As he grew stronger, he began to manifest his roots ever further. Travelers began to go missing when they approached the normally dormant woods, never to be heard from again. Local legends kicked up and soon the place was avoided by even those with the strongest resolves. Longer, safer routes were preferred, and Seonghwa slowly lost his accumulating power. Animals had already learned to stay far, far away by that point. 

Seonghwa had merely been a voice in the beginning, whispering his needs on honeyed lips into Yeosang’s ears. He was shapeless, full of desires that did not have an accurate visage to accompany them. It wasn’t easy for Yeosang to perform the duties forced upon him in the beginning. His initial thought had been to run. In the beginning, he had done so, but a week away from the forest had found him drained of energy, lungs slowly closing in on themselves as they fought to breathe, and he understood what had been exchanged. The spirit had merely turned back the clock a bit. His injuries were still present but they were on a delayed timer. So long as Yeosang returned to the forest and stayed within Seonghwa’s good graces, he was allowed to keep on living. 

Once Seonghwa had been fed a little more, he manifested in a physical shape. It was his true form, the body he had occupied before succumbing to death beneath that very tree. Thin, pale, and nothing but bones held together by worn flesh, he had been a terrifying sight to behold. The more he consumed, the more strength returned, until Seonghwa could hold a physical form indefinitely. It was a sign of vitality returning to his roots and, somewhere along the way, Yeosang found himself devoting all of his time and energy to making it happen. He went from unwilling participant to dedicated devotee. 

And maybe, in their own little twisted way, they fell in love. 

As much as a spirit of death and a soul marked for it could be. 

“Luring unsuspecting souls here will be hard now,” Yeosang finally replied, neatly refolding the cloth. He tucked it back into his bag and shut it gently. “These woods incite fear.” 

“Perhaps you will need to hunt beyond my borders,” Seonghwa answered.

A vine protruded from the ground near his knees, slowly coiling up to rest gently on the back of his hand. Yeosang’s other hand rose, fingers brushing reverently along the smooth surface. It felt just as muscle might, twitching against his skin at his soft touch. 

“You are silent in response,” the spirit observed. The vine advanced up his arm, curling slowly along his forearm and bicep. “Is your dedication wavering?”

“My dedication to you is eternal,” Yeosang replied softly, the vine’s tip stroking along his chin. It pushed beneath, gently craning his head back so his eyes could meet the bright yellow of Seonghwa’s.

“Then you would deny me of proper sustenance?” Seonghwa’s head tilted. “Or do the lives of a few humans mean more.”

“I am merely recalling the best routes to transport gifts.” His reply was monotone, betraying nothing of his true thought. “The roads are dangerous beyond where you can see.”

Seonghwa appeared satisfied with his answer and the vine around his forearm uncurled, retreating back into the dirt. Instead, the spirit motioned for Yeosang to rise; he did so without fuss. “You are an excellent gift giver, Yeosang.”

“Your praise is undeserved.”

“Nonsense.” Seonghwa extended a hand, palm hovering above his cheek. “Though I can sense a question humming within you. What is it, dear Yeosang?”

Yeosang leaned into Seonghwa’s touch, his palm cool against his warm cheek. It was only the third time Seonghwa had ever laid a hand upon him. He sighed softly, eyes sliding shut as he enjoyed the soft touch. “... Why did you spare me above all others?”

Seonghwa’s other hand came up, framing his face gently. His thumbs stroked up his cheekbones in a soothing manner. “Because you are special, Yeosang.”

“Special?” He allowed Seonghwa to guide him closer, the spirit pulling him against his bare chest.

“You were drunk that night, remember?” 

Yeosang’s brow furrowed, confused. “Yes?”

“Your blood tasted so sweet, so heady … and it had been so, so long since I had tasted wine,” Seonghwa breathed, lips grazing his ear. “You were intoxicating,” he whispered, “and I wanted nothing more than to tear you to pieces.”

“Why spare me then?” Yeosang murmured back, still just as confused. 

“Because you are so much more than the soul known as  _ Kang Yeosang. _ You are ancient and powerful, and magic flows within your veins.” Seonghwa shifted so his hands could slide down Yeosang’s spine, parting cloth and skin to wiggle between his cheeks. His cool fingers made him shiver, pad of a single one pressing against his entrance and rubbing there with soft pressure. 

“Then it would make sense to consume me,” he whispered. “This power would sustain you for months to come.”

“Your skull would be no fun to play with,” Seonghwa replied, other hand squeezing at his clothed cheeks. “Besides, you are needed for something more, something only  _ you  _ can do.”

“Something only I can do?”

“In time, I will tell you,” Seonghwa chuckled, vines slithering into his pant legs. They began to coil up his legs, grip firm but not constricting. Not yet anyway. “For now … allow us to indulge. We should not waste the gifts we were so kindly given.” 

Despite being trapped as a disjointed spirit, Seonghwa had not forgotten human etiquette. He sealed their lips together in a firm kiss. Seonghwa tasted like nothing, his saliva so devoid of taste it made his heart flutter at the unnaturalness of it. The spirit licked at his mouth with fervent need and Yeosang shivered beneath its power, hands rising to wrap around his tall body. His fingertips played along the outline of Seonghwa’s spine, every ridge pronounced and cold. 

All the while, Seonghwa’s vines rose from the forest floor and took the initiative in undressing him. His pants were tugged down with supple strength, undergarments following suit. A rather thick vine plopped against his hip, the weight of it making Yeosang groan into Seonghwa’s willing mouth. It slid along his exposed hip and slithered up, where its delicately shaped tip bent around one of his nipples in a soft caress. The vine pulled and tucked, tip teasing at the little dimple in the center. 

Seonghwa broke their kiss, allowing Yeosang to suck in grateful gasps of air. He enjoyed playing with his breath a little too much, a byproduct of his near death years ago. Meanwhile, Seonghwa continued playing with his hole, rubbing in measured circles but not quite pushing inside yet. A tendril much like the one upon his chest joined his hand, positioning itself at the top of his crack. Cool liquid drizzled down to meet Seonghwa’s fingers, it being smeared in an even coat over his pucker. Yet still Seonghwa did not push inside, instead withdrawing his hand entirely. The vine, however, remained, still oozing whatever the liquid happened to be against his hole; he did not wish to know.

Yeosang shivered as he was lifted from the ground by supple vines, pulled away from Seonghwa’s chest despite his own want to keep exploring the spirit’s newly formed body. His own desires were less important though and he understood this, allowing his body to be positioned via Seonghwa’s whims. He was essentially folded in half, knees crooked and held open by a mix of vine, ivy, and root, while his arms were pulled behind his back and wrapped in place. Ivy took over upon his chest, newly formed leaves brushing along his nipples and making him squirm in all that bound him. 

“I did not have enough strength for a full human body,” Seonghwa murmured, “so I hope my vines will be enough to tend to you.”

“Every part of you is enough,” Yeosang gasped.

“Ah, flattery,” the spirit replied. Something knocked against his hole, wet and large. “You will be treated well, Yeosang.”

“You always treat me well.”

Seonghwa smiled at that, arms coming up to cross against his chest. He was rewarded for his words, the insisted length against his entrance ceasing its teasing strokes. It began to push inside, slippery and barely felt at first. As it did so, the other vines positioned upon his body began to move in their own little ways, stroking at his skin and prodding at his nipples. Sensations of pleasure sparked beneath his skin, Yeosang’s head falling back in a soft moan. One of Seonghwa’s ivy tendrils responded to that, sliding up the length of his spine to slowly wrap around his throat. A leaf hovered against the hollow of it, a physical promise of what was to come.

The girth of the vine within his ass grew, Yeosang feeling the way the tip stroked along his walls. It delved ever deeper, stretching him open with a welcome burn that had him whimpering into the cool night air. He could feel every twitch, every push, every touch inside, Yeosang’s own length growing hard with each little swell of pleasure through him. The wetness grew, so much liquid accumulating within his body that it began to drip out. His cheeks burned at the feeling of viscous liquid leaking from him but all of Seonghwa’s focus was upon it. 

Yeosang moaned as a smaller tendril of ivy began to coil its way around his shaft, holding him firmly. Each tiny shift made his hips twitch. Between the vines rubbing at his chest and the vine meticulously stretching him open, his senses had heightened beyond measure, the poor man hyper aware of every bit of stimulation to his body—and they had only just begun.

“I sense your hesitation,” Seonghwa murmured, “but we are deep within the woods. Please, scream until your throat goes raw.”

A cruel jest as the vine within his ass slipped free, whatever liquid it had left behind continuing to ooze out of him. He was not left empty for long, however. The vine was quickly replaced by another, much larger than the first, and though Yeosang could not see it his body reacted on its own. He began to tremble as it nudged against his slick entrance. All of a sudden, the vine around his throat drew tight, squeezing the air straight from Yeosang’s lungs and making him writhe within the vines keeping him suspended. His eyes opened wide, tongue poking from his mouth as the vine below finally pushed inside, matching the burn within his throat as he was split in two. It was the strangest mix of pleasure and pain that Yeosang had ever felt, his cock leaking down the ivy holding onto it as he battled with need to breathe and his need to enjoy.

The vine loosened its grip moments later, the euphoric high accompanying his first gasp of air sending sparks through his eyes. Yeosang panted heavily, eyes focused blankly on the star spattered sky high above. He gave no reaction as the tendril within his ass became fully seated, stretching him to capacity and making his spine ache with pleasure. It was too much yet not enough all at once, Yeosang silently begging for Seonghwa to bestow upon him more. 

His requests were heard.

Everything began moving at once. The vines upon his chest swirled around his nipples, squeezing and loosening in movements timed with the quick thrusting of the vine in his ass as the ones around his throat and cock squeezed with just enough pressure to be felt. 

Yeosang thrashed in Seonghwa’s strong grip as he was unraveled in a completely different way, all of his rawest sensation laid bare before the spirit of death in charge of his fate. Were Seonghwa to kill him then, Yeosang may have even found pleasure in that, the air squeezed from his lungs as his bones crunched beneath the weight of the earth, blood trickling down to become nothing more than the spirit’s next meal. He would’ve thanked him for allowing him to give himself over, to be of service in a time of need.

And that thought alone guided him to orgasm, cum spilling from his aching tip and tainted the soil below.

Seonghwa groaned, low and deep, and the vines upon him tightened their grip. The spirit approached, cold hands hovering reverently above his twitching length as Yeosang watched through pleasure-hazed eyes. His head lowered and Yeosang felt the faintest brush of a tongue against his messy cock, Seonghwa cleaning away his cum like a man who had never known water.

“This,” the spirit groaned, “ _ this _ is why you are kept alive, Yeosang.”

His head lolled back, Yeosang catching sight of three new leaves alongside the first, and suddenly the forsaken man understood. His life energy was not amid blood.

Seonghwa lowered him to the soft grass, every vine retreating from his body, until only they remained. He crouched as well, arms crossed upon his bent knees, and smirked while Yeosang panted in the aftershocks of pleasure flooding through him. 

“You are mine, Yeosang,” Seonghwa whispered, reaching out to gently cup his cheek.

“I am yours,” he responded at length, touching the tender flesh around his throat; it was certain to bruise. “My dedication is to you.” 

“Once my strength has grown, I can be with you directly.”

It had been a taste of what the future had in store, a promise for what awaited Yeosang if he followed Seonghwa’s desires. If he acquired gifts of exquisite quality, he would be rewarded. 

“I shall bring them,” Yeosang promised, hand sliding atop Seonghwa’s. “You will have a feast, and then I will offer myself to you. You are my everything, Seonghwa; I love you.”

Seonghwa smiled, Yeosang pretending he could not see the false dedication within each careful line of his beautiful face. “I love you too, Yeosang.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twt [@moonswallowed](https://twitter.com/moonswallowed) (18+ pls) for more content!
> 
> thank you for reading!!


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